


A Little Night Research

by PointyEaredWench



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cute, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Love, One Shot, Romance, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PointyEaredWench/pseuds/PointyEaredWench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagining of what a Lavellan/Solas seduction might look like...a bit nerdy, a bit oblivious, a bit frustrating, and a lot cute. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Night Research

The walk down the hallway to his room always seemed to take an eternity.

Maia Lavellan squared her shoulders and quickened her pace, mindful of maintaining the silent footfalls of the hunter she’d been until not long ago, when the world had started to come undone. Though she’d been skilled enough that tales of her prowess had reached other Dalish clans, Maia thought she had never hunted such elusive—not to mention oblivious—quarry as the man she sought now. She’d been down here to ask him a question or two dozens of times, and nothing had ever come of it. Why should tonight be any different? Solas simply didn’t seem to notice that she was interested in him, much less _female_. Of course, she had a feeling that between fighting demons and trying to save the world from certain destruction, he had bigger things on his mind than unlacing her leathers with his teeth.  Unfortunately.  But it was against her nature to give up without a fight, so here she was again.

Though only the high back of his chair was visible as she approached, Maia knew he’d be settled in it at this hour, open books and unbound scrolls scattered before him on his desk, as content as a person could be.  She briefly considered sneaking up on him, then discarded the idea.  The sparse and singed eyebrows Sera was currently sporting were proof enough that it was a bad idea to startle him.  Then again, they may have just been proof that trying to draw a moustache on him while he slept was ill advised, but it was best not to take chances. It had been a long enough day already.

“Solas?”  Maia came around the side of the desk and was treated to the sight of a handsome elf hunched over a tome, deep in thought. His brow was furrowed, creating the only lines on a face that showed perhaps half of his forty-two years. His sleek bald head only served to showcase the sharp beauty of his features, softened by full lips that could drive even the busiest, most exhausted, and thoroughly out-of-sorts Inquisitor to distraction.  Vivienne liked to attribute the apparent youth of the “scruffy hedge mage” to his having made a deal with an accommodating demon.  Maia didn’t think so…but unlike the treasures spread in front of him, Solas was very much a closed book when it came to his life.  With him, it was all lyrical snippets of conversation and frustrating guesswork.  She’d been spending far too much time on the guessing lately.  It couldn’t be healthy.

_Maybe I should just go stab something instead.  Like I did yesterday. And the day before. People are going to start to wonder why I have such a grudge against the training dummies._ Maia turned to face him, glancing around at the walls lined with books all the way to the ceiling, the single chair by the fire that she’d found him sleeping once or twice, the neatly made bed…  _Best not to think about the bed_ , she lectured herself _._ Maia tried to take her own advice and waited for Solas to notice her presence.  Sometimes it took saying his name more than once to get his attention. Tonight, though, his gaze lifted to meet hers almost immediately. 

By candlelight and the glow cast by the crackling fire his light blue eyes took on a violet cast, their color becoming something a bit otherworldly.  A faint smile curved his lips when those unusual eyes lit on her, and Maia suddenly found herself unable to draw in enough air.  _Don’t be stupid. He’ll give you what you came for, pat you on the head, and send you off the way he always does. And then you can get on with your life. Or just go get obliterated at the tavern.  Oh who am I kidding, it’ll be the tavern._

“Inquisitor.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”  His voice was soft, lilting, and laced with the same hint of amusement that often made Maia wonder whether he wasn’t just playing with them all. She was certain he had secrets…not that he seemed inclined to share them.  But he was no simple hedge mage, no matter how he tried to pass himself off as one. And it was worth trying one more time to make him see her as more than just The Inquisitor, even if it ended in her own unhappiness. At least, after tonight, she’d know.

“I wondered,” Maia said, “if you might have a book for me.”

He tilted his head, one eyebrow arching when she provided no further information.  “As you can see, I’ve got quite a few.  But if you have a particular subject in mind, I’m happy to help, as always.”

“I do,” Maia replied. _It’s now or never._   She took a deep breath, girded herself for near-certain disappointment, and said, “I need some information on…courtship.”

For once, it seemed she’d managed to surprise him. He stared at her for so long she began to wonder if he’d heard her correctly.  Finally, though, he managed an uncharacteristically halting response.  “I…courtship, Inquisitor?”

She nodded.  “Courtship, romance, whatever you might have, as long as it’s not about the Dalish.”

Solas’s other eyebrow rose to join the first. “Far be it from me to try and dissuade you from any knowledge you might seek but…may I ask why? It seems…an odd subject for a time like this. And why exclude the Dalish?”

Maia shrugged.  “If I thought about nothing but fighting I’d go mad. There’s nothing wrong with taking a bit of time for my own interests, is there?  As for why I want to exclude the Dalish, well, I already understand our courtship rituals.  They don’t seem to apply to other cultures.”  She kept her eyes locked with his.  “That, or they _are_ similar and I’m just doing it wrong.”

Solas’s expression tightened for such a brief instant that Maia thought she might have imagined it.  She blinked and he was himself again, watching her with only mild curiosity.  Her heart sank into her toes.  This wasn’t going the way she’d hoped.  As usual.

“Ah, now I understand.  I expect you mean Qunari courtship.  I’m afraid you won’t have much to study.  They have no conception of such things, though one who has lived apart from his kind for a time might have developed his own ideas on the matter.” His voice hardened. “In which case you’d want to go directly to the source.”

It took a moment for the implication to fully sink in. He thought…her and _Bull_?  She enjoyed the Qunari mercenary’s company, and she could admit to appreciating his outrageous flirting at times, but actually seeking a relationship with him? Her eyes widened, and she might have laughed had it not been for the thunderous expression on Solas’s face as he returned his attention to his book, dismissing her without another word. She could almost feel the waves of disapproval pouring off of him.  And though she would never normally revel in his anger at her, right now, just this once, seeing it gave her hope.

Perhaps he wasn’t so indifferent to her after all. But there was only one way to be sure.

“Not Qunari,” she said.  “I had something else in mind.”

He barely glanced up at her.  “Human, then?  They’re not so different from the Dalish in matters of the heart, I assure you.”

“Actually,” Maia said, her voice softening as she gave up the secret she’d been carrying since the day he’d arrived and explained, in his calm, confident way, that he would be joining the Inquisition, “I need to know about elves.  One particular sort of elf.”

Now he looked up and held her gaze, and rather than anger, there was a question in his eyes.  “Oh? What sort is that?”

“One who is neither city nor Dalish. One who has mainly lived on his own, and so might not understand, ah, certain signals.  Not even when given enthusiastically.  And repeatedly.” 

He studied her silently a moment longer, then spoke. “I see.  So you think this elf has no experience with such things?” No, he was no longer upset. Instead, he was back to sounding faintly amused.  Maia flushed. She hadn’t come here to be laughed at. If she’d just wanted a bed partner she could well have sought out Bull, who’d been quite clear that his body, if not his heart, was on offer to her anytime she liked.  But she wanted more.  She wanted Solas, damn him.  And now he was teasing her.

“I expect not,” Maia said flatly, “since he seems to have no idea what to do with a woman who clearly wants him in her bed.”

That infuriatingly sensual curve of his mouth again, as though she’d unwittingly told a joke.  “I think you might be surprised.  I do agree, though, such an elf would be difficult to read. And, I might add, not necessarily expecting that sort of interest, even if he would find it…most welcome. In any case, I believe I can help you in this quest for knowledge after all.”

She’d fully expected to be dismissed, so his words caught her off guard.  “Right, then, I’ll just leave you to—oh.  You can?”

“Yes.”  He rose with fluid grace, the thin fabric of his tunic shifting over broad shoulders. He wore a simple leather belt around his slim waist, and Maia let her eyes drop, just for a brief instant, to see if she could admire his indecently snug trousers.  No such luck, though, as he remained behind his desk. Maia’s jaw tightened as she glared at the piles of books obscuring her view.  It seemed her life had been reduced to stabbing things, shoving her hand into Fade tears, and staring at Solas’s backside…and she was too enamored of the latter to even feel properly ashamed about it.

“You’ll find what you’re looking for just there, on the sixth shelf up.  It’s bound in blue leather, I think.”

She looked at him, suddenly uncertain. Did he actually have some sort of manual on how to deal with unaffiliated elves?  She wouldn’t put it past him.  But something in the way he watched her, as steady and intent as a forest predator, made her think otherwise.  She had always been the hunter, never the hunted, but in that instant she felt that the tables had turned.  Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to mind.  All the days’ weariness vanished, replaced by breathless anticipation she struggled to conceal as she obliged him, turning to where he pointed.  There was indeed a blue leather book high upon a shelf. She turned her head to look back at him, curious, but his expression was unreadable.

“That one there?” she asked.

“Mmm.”

Maia turned and walked to the wall, hoping she looked as confident as she normally was.  It was so frustrating—she could assassinate an Avvar and melt into shadow, cleave a demon’s head from its body with a single flick of her wrist, heal breaches between worlds…but a single, inscrutable elf was her undoing.

And naturally, he’d indicated a shelf she couldn’t reach.

Maia stretched up on her toes and extended her arm, fingers just brushing the spine of the book.  _Damned high shelves._ She heaved an irritable sigh and tried to stretch just a bit more.  He had to have known she wouldn’t be able to get at it.  Whatever he was up to, though, he wasn’t going to get any more amusement at her expense than he already had.  And if he truly wanted her to look at something in this silly book, well, she’d just get it herself.  Somehow.

As attuned as she was to every subtle movement around her, she never heard him coming.  Her only warning was a whisper of air before he was behind her, one hand lightly curving around her hip as he reached above her, the book sliding easily into his hand. Maia froze at the contact. His chest barely brushed her back, but he might as well have been pressed against her for the way she reacted to it. Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to simply arch back into him like a cat, ready to stretch and purr at a simple touch. She finally managed to draw in a single, ragged breath, every muscle in her body so taut she worried he would feel her quivering.  Solas, however, remained as collected as always when he lowered the book in front of her.

“All the power in the world won’t make you grow enough to reach that, you know.  Allow me.” He spoke softly into her ear, his breath fanning her sensitive skin.  Maia swallowed hard, not wanting to move in case he pulled away. It was, she realized, the first time he’d touched her since he’d shown her how to use the power in her hand. Her daydreams hardly did the sensation justice.  She didn’t want it to end…but staying here forever wasn’t an option.  Reluctantly, she lifted her hand to take the book from him, nearly dropping it when he lowered his newly free hand to her other hip, holding her in place.

“Tell me, is this what you wanted, Inquisitor? I must confess…it’s sometimes hard to know.”

She forced herself to concentrate on the title embossed on the leather cover long enough to read it, then gave a startled laugh. “One Hundred and One Layouts for Your Chantry Garden,” she read.  And she knew, as she turned in his arms, that she’d been wrong about his indifference—and possibly more than that.  She let the book fall to the floor with a muffled thump and slid her hands over his shoulders, tipping her head back to look into a face she saw even in her dreams. His long, dark lashes lowered as his gaze skimmed from the top of her head to her lips, and settled there.

“Yes,” she said.  “I believe it is.  _Exactly_ what I wanted, in fact.”

“Excellent,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Perhaps you’ll let me guide you in your study, then.  I think you might be pleasantly surprised at the benefits of my experience.”

Maia took the half step that brought her against him, fitting her curves to his long, lithe form as he skimmed his hands up her back and pressed his lips to the top of her head.  She shivered at the frisson of pleasure that rippled through her, knowing it was only a shadow of things to come.  He was finally hers.  And for tonight, at least, she could pretend they had all the time in the world to enjoy it.

“Do tell,” she said, then lost herself in the decadent softness of his kiss.


End file.
